We remember moments, Not days

We remember moments, Not days

So many days, hundreds of them were murdered by my weak human memory. And yet, somehow, so many moments remain, preserved, immortalized deep, deep in me.

It’s a festival of playbacks in my head; a festival where all these moments attack at once. As I live here now I’m not really alive. I’m never alive unless I live in those moments which keep living deep, deep in me.

I used to be sad that I couldn’t remember days. But I barely survive these moments I remember so how, how the hell would I have survived entire days?